Life On The Sweet Side
by MichelleTheVampGirl
Summary: The story of how Candy met Sweet Tooth and got implicated in his candy themed madness. When you're in love with a criminal mastermind, how can things ever truely be... sweet?
1. Chapter 1

With eye's shifting restlessly from side to side out the windshield, I tried to blink back the moisture in my eyes. I slapped a hand on my steering wheel angrily and let out a scream of frustration. Aware that my chest was heaving and the tears streaming from my eyes were blurring my vision, I hastily pulled my car over to the side of the road, and jerked the key out of the ignition.

I sat in the front seat resting my head on the steering wheel trying to contain my sobs. I pulled at my hair and screamed, and continued to do so until I realised that it really wasn't making me feel any better. Taking a deep breath, I opened the car door and stepped outside, letting the icy wind hit me in the face and making my eyes sting. Trying to keep my breathing even, I walked down the street, my arms wrapping themselves protectively around my chest to try and hold myself together.

I was scared that if I let go, I'd completely fall apart.

At the end of the street there was a faded yellow building with a weathered sign, but I remembered the building from when I was a kid. It used to be my favourite store in the entire city.

I pushed open the old door cautiously, trying to ignore the sound of the creaking hinges and the rattling glass pane. It was an old candy shop. I used to come here all the time and couldn't leave without buying something.

The old man at the counter smiled at me pleasantly, and I nodded back briskly before turning my attention on the shelves upon shelves of candy. I remembered thinking there was no way I would ever be able to try every type they had in the store. I walked down an aisle, reading the names on the tags absently as I went. My father used to bring me here whenever I was sad, and tell me in his warm voice, that a little bit of sugar could make anything bitter become sweet.

I don't think that all the sugar in the world could make me feel better.

The door of the store creaked open as someone else entered the shop, their footsteps heavy on the wooden floor. I looked up to see a man in a pink suit with powder blue hair smiling at me kindly. He looked me up and down and cocked his head to the side. His eccentricity was mildly perplexing, and I didn't back away from him like I normally would. Instead he walked up to me boldly, twirling his candy striped cane in his hands.

"Wonderful things, isn't it, candy. I can never get enough" He chuckled to himself as he got a box of Red Vines off the shelf.

"And what's your name, _sweetheart?"_ He asked me polity, still twisting his cane in his elegant fingers.

"Candace" I replied breathily, feeling flustered as his intense gaze focused itself on my face.

"What a truly _sweet_ name! It sounds almost like Candy!" He doubled over with laughter. The sound was infectious, and I almost let out a giggle myself. But it brought back too many memories.

"Yeah... that's what my dad used to call me." I looked around the shop sadly.

"He used to bring me here all the time. He would tell me that any problem in life would seem less important if I was eating candy."

The man beamed at me, and leaned on his cane casually. He didn't seem intimidating or threatening at all, but I'm not sure why I was telling him about my father. But I wanted to trust him.

"Your father sounds like my kind of fellow. A real _smarty"_

I nodded at the floor, tears brimming in my eyes.

"Yeah, he was a good man."

I looked up at him, and rubbed my eyes, embarrassed.

"He died this morning."

The man in the pink suit gasped and jumped forward to wrap an arm around me. He made soothing noises as his hand rubbed circles on my back. It felt weird to be this close to a stranger, but there was something about him that drew me in.

"I'm sorry" I choked out, and ran my fingers through my lank brown hair.

"I don't even know your name?"

He grinned at me, and bowed gallantly.

"You can call me Sweet Tooth."

I really wanted to know his real name, but I knew he didn't have to tell me if he didn't want to. So all I did was nod. He chuckled to himself and continued to watch me curiously. The silence between us was palpable.

"I guess I better go... It was nice to meet you... Sweet Tooth." I smiled as warmly as I could before I turned around and started to walk away.

"Wait! Not before I give you a kiss!" He called after me, and his voice sent shivers down my spine.

"Excuse me?" I asked, turned around to see him holding out a piece of _kiss_ chocolate. A smug smile etched into his face.

"Oh." I coughed nervously.

"Thanks." I picked it up out of his outstretched hands and quickly walked out of the store.

The sound of his laughter echoing behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

I didn't cry at all during the service.

My eyes remained dry as I read my speech saying how much my father would be missed.

My voice was emotionless as I told the crowd how much I loved him.

As I took my seat, I could feel their eyes on me, narrowed with accusation. My mother sat next to me, crying daintily into a lacy black handkerchief. She patted my shoulder comfortingly, but I knew she was like the rest of them. Wondering how I could seem so calm.

The truth was, I felt numb. I felt empty. Devoid of emotion.

I couldn't bring myself to believe he was really gone.

It was only when they began to lower the casket into the ground that the truth started to sink in. My father was dead. He was never going to come back.

And it was only then that I started to cry.

The rest of the service passed in a blur, I could barely see through my grief stricken haze. I don't remember any of the well wishes that strangers bestowed on me, and in all honesty I didn't really care. They hadn't known my father like I had. They would think to themselves, "what a shame" and then carry on. But for me, my father was everything. My father was the one who raised me and clothed me, who gave me advice about life, and even tried to help me with my awkward teenage problems. He was there for me through my first boyfriend and my first breakup, he was there when I had my first period and I freaked out. He was always there.

I couldn't imagine my life without him.

My mother and my father had gotten divorced when I was very young. She couldn't handle a child and so she split. I watched my father cry over her every single day, and I know that he never really moved on, even after 20 years. And yet the woman still comes to his funeral? All dressed in black and crying as though she still loved him after 20 years of no contact with us except for the occasional phone call and card on my birthday.

My mother came up to me to try and give me a hug but I pushed her away. Her eyes filled with tears and she hurried off. Good riddance. She didn't deserve to touch me, not after she abandoned me. I was left with nobody, but even alone, I wouldn't want her company.

I walked outside the funeral home, my arms still wrapped around my sides. I was trying so hard to keep my emotions in check, to not completely break down where people could still see me. The sharp pain in my sides, the crushing sensation of my lungs gave me something to hold on to, something real and tangible. I flexed my fingers and let out a gasp of pain and they cut into my sides through my sheer dress.

"Please don't do that."

My head shot up to see the man from the candy store leaning against my car. His eyebrows were pinched together with concern.

"What, no candy pun this time?" I joked sadly, my comment sounding bitter.

He shook his head and unfolded his arms, his face sombre as he stepped away from my car.

"That's not really something I do all the time."

He sounded so different to the man I had met in the store all those weeks ago, I had to stop and really look at his face. He seemed different somehow, less extravagant, but interesting all the same. His face was clear of any makeup, and I had to admit he was handsome. His clothes were different too, a simple pair of black pants and a soft pink shirt. His powder blue hair was combed back, his cane was absent.

"Who are you?" I asked quietly, my arms still wrapped tightly around my middle.

He walked forward and placed his hands gently on mine, pulling them away from my body. His eyes were filled with concern, his mouth set in a frown. I couldn't look at his face for more than three seconds without wanting to cry. This man I barely knew showed me more sincere sympathy and kindness than any of those supposed friends and relatives inside. And I didn't even know his name.

"Candace?" He murmured gently, placing a finger under my chin and pulling my face forward.

"Are you ok?"

I couldn't take it. The tears welled up in my eyes and rolled down my cheeks hysterically. His arms wrapped themselves around me tightly, in a way that was comforting instead of painful, and he held my hair in one hand and my torso in another. I crushed myself to his chest as he whispered comforting things in my ears.

Maybe that was the point that I started to fall in love with him. I don't know. All I know is that he was there for me when I desperately needed someone. He gave me a purpose when I had nothing left. But the man I met outside my father's funeral was a different man to the one I came to know, and I wished I had realised then what I was getting myself into. But I can't change the past, and I can't change my answer to that question he asked me while he held me in the funeral homes parking lot so very long ago.

"Candace? Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Candace, _sweetart, _I'm popping out for a spell."

I lifted my head from the couch and observed him. He was dressed in his flamboyant suit again. The bright pink fabric brought a smile to my lips.

"Sure thing ST."

I got up off the couch and shot him a look that promised him I'd behave. His smile in return was dazzling. The door shut abruptly and I was left wondering what I was supposed to do for the rest of the day. I hated it every time he left.

After he had offered me a place to stay, and I had spent a wonderful night in his bed, just being held in his arms as I dreamt, I decided I never wanted to leave. His presence was intoxicating, it was like a drug to me, and every time he left the apartment, it left a painful ache in my chest.

I don't remember how long I had been here, it could be days, weeks, months, I didn't care. All I cared about now was him. He was my safety. He made me feel loved and special, like I had a reason and a purpose. He helped me forget my father, albeit temporarily.

But all that came crashing down as soon as he closed the door.

Feeling a shot of fury I brought my fist down on the kitchen counter. Around Sweet Tooth I could be sweet and loving, I could forget how I felt about the world, but it was always there, bubbling just below the surface. I hated this city. I hated everyone in it. The world was dark and twisted, it was broken beyond compare. Couldn't the people of Gotham see how corrupted they were? How the good people in the world were nothing more than animals to the bad?

I scowled under my breath, flexing my fists by my sides.

How could the people of this city be so cruel as to take away the man that meant the most to me?

I blamed them. I blamed them all for my father's death.

And I would avenge him.

I left the kitchen, looking around the tiny apartment for anything to amuse me. Sweet Tooth's apartment was nice, modern, and was brightly painted. The rooms always smelled sweet, like someone had lined the furniture with candy. The living room was painted a bright blue, with the adjacent kitchen a sunny yellow. The bedroom we shared together was a soft pink.

The colour scheme always lifted my mood, it made me feel less volatile. But in a way, I suppose, it coaxed me to be more... creative.

I walked into the bathroom, the only room in the building that wasn't painted a bright colour. The walls were a plain, dull white. Uninteresting, unappealing. Stable.

The girl in the mirror glared back at me with harsh eyes and an angry set to her mouth. I tried to smile, but all that did was make me look insane. I leaned in closer to the mirror, critically analysing the features I saw. Pretty enough face, but forgettable. Long brown hair that looked mousy and ordinary. Feeling disgusted by what I saw, I picked up a hairbrush and threw it at the mirror as hard as I could, shattering the glass into hundreds of fragments.

I was ordinary.

It seemed ridiculous, looking around at the rest of the apartment, to think that someone so plain as me could possibly live here. Sweet Tooth was vibrant, alive, bold. He was unforgettable.

And that's what I wanted to be.

I figured Sweet Tooth's errand, whatever it may be, would take more than a few hours. They always did. So I had time to shake things up a bit. I was done being the sad little girl who had lost her father. It was time for a change, time to show the world how bold and confident I really was.

It was time for me to show Sweet Tooth that I could be extravagant too.

I locked up the apartment and ran down to the drugstore a couple of blocks down. Inside I quickly found the aisle that specialised in hair care, and began to examine all the colours. Black? Too cliché. Blonde? Not enough of a change. Red? I paused. Almost.

I stooped and picked up two bottles of hair dye. Both colours would be perfect. But which one? I tried to think of Sweet Tooth, of his light blue hair that seemed to catch in the light and shine. Snapping myself out of my daydream, I looked at the bottles again, trying to think which one he would like more.

But that was exactly my problem wasn't it? I froze. I think too much. I needed to be more impulsive. More reckless. Laughing to myself I held both the bottles to my chest and smiled.

I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned around, smiling widely at the young boy that was clearly the only employee working at the moment.

"Can I help you miss?" He asked nervously, his hands shaking as I took a step forward.

"Actually you can" I smiled again, pulling my lips over my teeth and licking my upper lip slowly. A bead of sweet formed on the young boy's head that made me giggle in a childish soprano.

"I'm trying to be more... unpredictable." I told him matter-of-factly. He swallowed loudly, but didn't attempt to speak. I looked at the boy and all I saw was one thing. My father in his casket. It was someone like this boy who had killed him. Someone just as heartless as everyone else in this city.

Without thinking about it, I grabbed a hairdryer from the shelf and smashed it over the back of the boys head. He fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. Looking at the hairdryer, I noticed it was covered in blood.

Holding onto the bottles of hair dye, I ran all the way home, singing loudly to myself and dancing in circles. It felt so good to get some revenge. But I had a long way to go yet.

"That was for you, Dad" I whispered to the heavens.

Several hours later, when Sweet Tooth returned home, I was waiting for him. I had hacked at my long brown hair until it was shorter, with some layering at the ends. After that I had dyed it. Half bright blue, half bright pink. ST's reaction was priceless. He did a double take and his eyes bugged out of his head.

"Candace?" He asked sceptically, a slow smile spreading across his handsome face.

"Call me Candy." I trilled, giggling.


	4. Chapter 4

I couldn't sleep that night.

I kept thinking about that boy I had hit. What had happened to him? I felt a moment of panic when I briefly considered the possibility that the kid was dead. I quickly pushed it from my mind. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. One hit to the back of the head wouldn't have killed him, right?

Then I remembered how much blood there was, and I started to panic again. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop the strangled shrieks from gasping out of my throat.

I had killed someone.

I got out of bed slowly, trying not to wake Sweet Tooth, and slipped my bright pink robe over my sheer blue chemise. I cast a glance back at ST, lying peacefully in bed, his blue hair ruffled, his lips curled into a smile. He seemed so innocent. What would he think of me if he knew what I had done? He'd kick me out. He'd never want to see me again.

He'd hate me.

I was a murderer.

I crept to the bathroom, and stepped over all the broken glass to get to the sink. I had told ST that I hadn't meant to smash the mirror, that I thought I had seen a bug, and I had thrown my hairbrush at it instinctually. He had raised an eyebrow at me, but no more was said of it. He said he was going to pick up a new mirror tomorrow.

I turned on the tap and started to wash my hands methodically. The water was boiling hot, and it made my skin feel raw, but I continued to scrub away, my face blank as I began to dig my nails into the backs of my hands as I scrubbed. There was a piece of glass still attached to the mirror's frame, a small triangle in the left corner, just large enough for me to see my face. My colourful hair hung around my shoulders, dishevelled from where I had tossed and turned as I tried and tried to fall asleep. I raised a hand from out of the water and used it to try and flatten my hair, but all I did was smear blood over my head. I blinked a few times.

My memory flashed to the boy in the shop, blood blossoming from the back of his head as he fell to the ground. There was a shrill, high pitched noise, and a crash from the bedroom and ST came running into the bathroom, a pink and blue robe quickly thrown over his naked body.

"Candy? What's wrong?" He asked, desperation clear in his voice, his eyes skimming over my face, going wide at the sight of the blood. All I could do was stare at him.

"Candace... stop screaming, please!" He stepped forward and touched a hand to my face. I closed my mouth, and the noise immediately stopped.

Sweet Tooth took a step forward hesitantly, his hands probing gently around my face and head. Upon realising that wasn't where the blood had come from, he picked up my hands gently, and winced at the sight of them. The fingernails were ragged and broken. Scraps of skin were caught under the nails, mixed with blood. The backs of my hands were a mess. The skin was peeling off in layers, the scratch marks were deep, gouged lines through my flesh. There were places were the skin hung in flaps, so ST was able to peel them back to free my broken fingernails from the bloody tissue that had broken it.

I didn't say a word as he tended to my hands. He cleaned them up as gently as he could, though occasionally he would touch a tender part where my skin had been burned and ripped apart, and my entire hand would feel like it was on fire. I didn't even wince. He bandaged my hands up, leaving my fingers free, although he took special care of trimming my nails down into blunt little, nonthreatening stubs.

After he was finished nursing me, we sat facing each other on the couch, neither of us speaking for a couple of minutes. I could tell he was assessing me, his eyes skimming over my features, my hair, and finally, my hands, which I held tightly in my lap.

"I told you not to do that." He murmured finally, his eyes never leaving my hands.

"Do what?" I replied, my voice weak and emotionless.

"Hurt yourself." His eyes flashed up to my face, and the intensity I saw burning in them left me breathless.

"Don't think I haven't noticed. "

I hung my head to avoid his eyes, my cheeks burning.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He lunged forward and grabbed my hands, holding them by the wrists and pulled them towards him, the underside of my arm facing the ceiling. A faint tracery of lines covered my wrists, some brighter, more obvious and raised than the others.

"I've noticed."

He dropped my hands and continued to stare at me.

"What happened tonight?" He asked me softly, as I held my hands tighter to my sides, my wrists hidden. I couldn't find my voice to reply. I didn't want to reply. To do so would be to tell him what I had done, and after he had been so good to me, after he had taken the time to bandage my hands. The very hands that had murdered someone.

"I had a bad dream" I muttered.

"I doubt that." Sweet Tooth said quietly, his gaze turning suspicious.

"You haven't slept tonight. Something was worrying you, I felt it. So I haven't slept either."

He leaned in closer to me, one hand cupping my cheek and pulling my head up to face him.

"Now tell me why you felt the need to maim your beautiful hands?"

I closed my eyes tightly. I had to tell him. He deserved to know.

"I think I killed someone today" I choked out, tears pushing themselves out from behind my eyelids.

The room went deathly quiet.

I expected him to jump on me with questions, demand I leave his house. Yell at me. Scream. Call the police. _Something_.

But there was only silence.

I dared to open my eyes, and saw a reaction I had not expected, something that frightened me beyond my visions of the boy I had potentially killed, but also filled me with a feeling of relief and excitement.

A quiet, deadly grin had crept over his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Sweet Tooth began to laugh.

Usually when he laughed it was bubbly, fun, and filled me with a feeling of joy. But not this laugh. There was a darker edge to it. Something just below the surface of his somewhat entrancing demeanour that I have to admit, I kind of liked. I was still shocked, and hurt, and not to mention _terrified_ of what I had done. But in that moment, I was entirely captivated by Sweet Tooth.

He was everything that mattered.

"My dear Candace!" He spluttered, the dangerous glint in his eyes drew me in, and I leaned forward expectantly.

"There's nothing to be worried about"

He leaned in closer and cupped my face in his hands. His breath was on my lips and I felt myself shiver with desire. He made everything seem right. Even when a part of me knew that this was oh so very wrong.

"There's nothing _bad_ about getting revenge on the city that wronged you!" All too soon his hands were gone. He stood up from the couch and paced across the living room, his voice becoming colder, crueller.

"You have a _right_ to demand justice!"

He spun around and raised me, he gaze questioning. I hesitated. Those were the exact reasons running through my head as I killed the kid, so why did a part of me still feel so guilty? Sweet Tooth saw me falter, he must have noticed the scepticism in my face because his voice grew louder, more urgent.

"Just think of your father!" He yelled at me, and I froze as I complied. My father. Who I would never see again.

"Think about how you found him in the street. Think about how no one _bothered _to help him." He words became mocking, scornful. I turned my head away and closed my eyes. I couldn't help but think about it. I couldn't help but give myself over to the visions that Sweet Tooth himself usually kept at bay.

"_I'll be right back daddy" I leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. _

"_Take your time Candy dear" he smiled at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling, his laugh lines deepening. _

_Inside his hands he clenched several hundred dollar bills. I looked at the money briefly and sighed, trying to forget what purpose it served. I couldn't bear the thought of losing my father, but no matter how risky it was, he needed that surgery. The money he held was everything I had saved up in the past couple of months working as a waitress. I could barely afford to feed myself anymore, but it would be worth it, if my father would be ok. _

_I got out of the car and ran across the street. His surgery would be later on in the day, and the doctors told me he needed a large sugar intake a few hours before to combat the more severe effects of the medication he would need for the surgery. Sugar was supposed to help activate the drug and keep it from becoming too strong in the body. Something like that anyway, I wasn't sure, I wasn't a doctor. _

_I quickly scoured the shelves of candy to find my dad's favourites, tropical skittles. Pretty much pure sugar. I put the small blue packet on the counter and handed over the money to the assistant, a bored looking teenage girl who popped her gum as she opened the cash register. It was really quite annoying, but I smiled and tried to ignore it. _

_Pop!_

_The cash register opened._

_Pop!_

_In went the money._

_Pop!_

_She closed the cash register._

_BANG!_

_My head shot up. The girl looked dazed as she pushed the skittles over the counter. I grabbed the packet and ran outside, absolutely terrified of what I would see, but I had watched enough crime dramas to know the sound of a gun when I heard one. _

_Outside on the street it was pandemonium. Women were screaming all up and down the street, children were crying, and a group of people dressed in nondescript jeans and hoodies were jumping into a van and racing off down the street. I didn't catch any of their faces. I didn't even know what colour car they were in._

_All I noticed was my father. _

_He was lying in the middle of the street, his eyes closed. I ran over to him, feeling my breath raggedly being drawn from my lips. I opened his dusty old brown jacket, only to see his crisp white shirt stained with blood. Tears sprung to my eyes as I recalled him washing that shirt and ironing it specially this morning. _

_He wanted to be wearing it when he left the hospital._

_A healthy man. _

_I hugged my father to my chest, my tears falling freely as I clung to him. _

_Somehow we ended up at the hospital, except now instead of worrying he might not come out alive, I already knew he wouldn't. He was dead before he had even arrived. _

I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks as I remembered it all, perfectly. My father's limp figure in my arms, the sight of the blood blossoming from his shirt. The shirt he had painstakingly cleaned, the shirt he had ironed while whistling merrily to himself and telling me all the things he would do when didn't have to worry about his heart anymore.

Well my father might no longer have to worry about his heart.

But his death had broken mine.

"Stop it." I whispered, my voice shaking. Sweet Tooth was bringing up things I thought I was leaving behind me. I thought he was _helping_ me leave it behind. Didn't he see how his words were hurting me?

"Think of how you could avenge him"

Sweet Tooth sat down, calmer now; he had more control over himself. But that desperation was still burning in his eyes. I had seen something inside of Sweet Tooth that made my tears stop. I saw a touch of insanity.

I had seen it in myself too, the day before. The day I killed a kid.

Sweet Tooth seemed so vibrant, trouble free. Sweet Tooth had no regrets, no hesitation; he lived his life by his own rules.

I was the one who usually played by everyone's rules, and I was the one who cried herself to sleep, and maimed her skin to real remotely normal.

That was the moment that I decided to completely reinvent my life. I was different on the outside, so I would be different on the inside too.

Goodbye to the girl who was too scared to walk close to the edge of chaos.

Goodbye to the girl who was defined by other's opinions of her.

Goodbye to the girl who never took what she wanted just because she could.

Goodbye to Candace.

Sweet Tooth extended his hand, his entire being pulsing with excitement.

"What do you say Candy? Are you with me?"

I clasped his hand with mine, my bandages a reminder of the girl I no longer wanted to be.

"Of course, ST."


	6. Chapter 6

After that Sweet Tooth took me under his wing, and I learnt all about his candy themed life of crime. Sweet Tooth was a powerful man in his line of business, and he had all the right connections in Gotham's underground. You'd think I'd be opposed to living with a wanted criminal, but nothing between us had changed. Sweet Tooth was still my Sweet Tooth, except now he included me in his schemes. And I _loved_ it.

He was dangerous and exciting, unpredictable and wild. He was my biggest role model.

And now I didn't have to sit around the apartment waiting for him to come home.

I was with him every second of the day.

Sweet Tooth sat up from the couch and went to go open the door. I watched him walk across the room quizzically. No one ever visited us. But we had both heard the doorbell ring, and I was feeling angry at the distraction. Sweet Tooth's arms had felt so warm around my waist, his breath sweet in my ear. We often just sat on the couch and talked, never about ourselves of course, but it still felt like a personal moment. I was disappointed to see him leave.

He came back into the room, a large garment bag under his arm. I was immediately intrigued.

"I brought you a gift my little _Hot Tamale_!" Sweet Tooth smiled mysteriously and handed me the bag.

"Oh ST! You shouldn't have!" I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, hearing his laughter against my lips. I loved his laugh.

He twirled a strand of my bright pink hair around his finger.

"I want you to look your best _sweetart_." He smiled seductively and tilted his head to the side. I couldn't believe how lucky I was, lucky that I was his.

I opened the bag and pulled out a dress. But not any sort of dress. The bodice was a mixture of bright pink and blue, just like my hair, and the skirt was a full round tutu. The entire item just screamed "Candy". It was the sort of thing that Candace would have sneered at. Too bright. Too bold. Too daring.

I loved it.

"It's amazing!" I giggled and held it against me, not even surprised Sweet Tooth had managed to guess my size perfectly.

"Try it on" He asked me softly. I shot him a flirty smile, and stripped off my jeans and shirt, never breaking eye contact with him. His attractive half smile made my heart skip a beat. This must be what it feels like to be in love.

I pulled the dress on, and turned around to let ST zip it up at the back with his fingers brushing my skin only lightly, leaving my flesh searing with desire. I pivoted on the spot, striking a pose to model my new dress. Sweet Tooth nodded, looking pleased with himself.

"You look good enough to eat" He teased, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me into him. I didn't put up a fight. I fell into his arms comfortingly and laid my head against his chest.

Everything was perfect.

"Say, Candy, I'm going to a meeting tonight for the council of Rogues, would you care to come with me?" Sweet Tooth asked me kindly, his arms still wrapped around my waist. I nodded eagerly and stretched up on my toes to kiss him. Our lips met and I tasted his mouth hungrily. He pulled back smiling brightly, and extracted himself from my arms. I pouted sadly at how quickly the kiss was over, but sometimes Sweet Tooth needed his personal space, and I was getting used to him not wanting me around sometimes.

He vanished into our bedroom, and returned soon after wearing his fancy pink suit, his hair carefully styled, and started to line the inside of his jacket with an assortment of his guns and knives. I knew that he always carried them. In Gotham you can never be too careful, you never know when someone is going to mug and kill you, or someone you care about.

I went into the bathroom and carefully applied my makeup, tied my hair up in pigtails, and accessorized my dress with some pink gloves and candy themed jewellery. Satisfied with my appearance, I went back out into the lounge and stood in the doorway, watching Sweet Tooth grab a bunch of papers and stick them in his jacket pocket.

"Ready my _dove_?" he looked up expectantly, his eyes quickly scanning my outfit approvingly.

"Sure thing ST" I giggled back, reaching a hand over to link myself to his side. We locked up the apartment and walked a few blocks to an abandoned warehouse. The windows were broken and the walls were falling apart, but it was here that the council of rogues met to discuss whatever it was they discussed. Sweet Tooth had never brought me to a meeting before, and I was feeling nervous and excited.

We jumped the fence and casually made our way to the back of the warehouse, Sweet Tooth occasionally glancing around to make sure we weren't being watched or followed. We reached a set of steps that led to a back door. The handle was smashed but the door was ajar, apparently the can the propped the door open was a sign to say that at last one of the rogues was already here.

"Are you ready Candy?" Sweet Tooth asked me seriously, his face stony as he glanced around the warehouse perimeter. I nodded.

"Good" he muttered, and shook his arm, breaking my grip and shaking me off him.

Then he marched up the steps and threw open the door, with me following behind him dutifully, wondering how _I got so lucky._


	7. Chapter 7

The Council of Rogues was not what I expected.

The dilapidated building was in a complete state of decay, with broken glass littering the floor, and rotting walls crumbling from the inside out. I glanced around the large room and shuddered, trying not to inhale the putrid stench that seeped through the air.

Large wooden boxes were stacked aimlessly on the side, with a collection of Rogues lounging comfortably across the makeshift multilayered couch. They looked up on our entrance, nodding respectively to Sweet Tooth, and eyeing me up cautiously. I smiled at the only two girls in the group, but they both tossed their hair over their shoulders and continued their conversation, clearly disinterested in me. I shrunk back to ST's side, already feeling nervous and self conscious.

Sweet Tooth swatted my arm away and gestured for me to go and sit down. I nodded and reluctantly walked over the box with the girls on it. One of them had incredibly distinctive red hair that curled down to her waist. She raised her eyebrows at me as I sat down, but didn't make a move to retreat. The other girl was more reserved, more scornful, she actually _hissed_ at me as I sat down.

I awkwardly reclined over two of the boxes, and glanced around at the other rogues curiously. ST had told me all about them, referring to them as his mindless minions. He told me he was very good at manipulated people, which I could easily believe. He had amassed a rather impressive amount of followers. There was the Riddler, spinning off riddles to Dr Freeze, who seemed to be ignoring him completely. The Penguin was in the middle of a discussion with the Scarecrow, both of them occasionally shooting glances towards me, their faces more thoughtful than hostile.

Staggered around the rest of the room were a collection of Rogues I had never even heard of, their costumes stupid and over exaggerated. I tried to hold in a giggle as I locked eyes with a man with a giant egg on his head. Sweet Tooth really had pulled all the Rogues out of the sewers, and now he was going to tell us his master plan.

"Gather round _chicklets!_" He called out in his musical voice, clapping his hands together and jumping on the spot. I leaned forward in my seat, eager to find out what he had been planning all this time. I knew it must be something good.

"Hey you," The woman with the red hair leaned forward, her voice making me shiver.

_Don't be afraid Candy. _

"Yeah?" I replied back coolly, as though I was completely indifferent as to whether she talked to me or not.

"Welcome to the Rogues" She smiled, and it looked halfway pleasant. I tried not to giggle with relief in reply.

"Thanks" I turned back to Sweet Tooth, who had stopped talking to watch the interaction between me and who I guessed was Poison Ivy. Sweet Tooth raised his eyebrows questioningly, his gaze stern, so I ducked my head shamefully. I knew he hated being interrupted. And I hated upsetting him.

"I know you've all been waiting patiently to hear my big bad plan" Sweet Tooth called happily, clasping his hands in front of him as he paced back and forth up the rows of boxes. All eyes were on him, and he seemed to revel in the attention, smiling at everyone happily. We all remained silent, focused on his words entirely.

"But here's the funny part." Sweet Tooth leaned forward, glancing around comically as though expecting to see someone eavesdropping.

"I'm not even going to tell you!" He straightened up laughing, twirling his cane in his hands as he hopped on the spot. I glanced around the room, confused. What was going on?

"To keep my plan best protected, I've only told those who need to know, so they are informed already."

There was an outbreak of murmuring as the rogues angrily discussed this piece of news in whispers that seemed to steadily grow in volume. Sweet Tooth was smiling at us all, leaning on his cane, remaining completely pleasant as the room dissolved into chaos.

"How can we follow you if you don't even tell us what we're supposed to be doing?" The Scarecrow stood up, his face stormy as he glared at Sweet Tooth, who just smiled back silently.

"Cool down Scarecrow!" Dr Freeze stood up, his intimidating height and voice making the Scarecrow back down.

"He makes a point" Catwoman called out, leaning back lazily on her box as she surveyed the room. She shrugged her shoulders and started to examine a nail.

"Luckily for me, I've been trusted with the details of the plan." She yawned, and shot a sneaky smile at ST, who winked back mischievously.

"You told her?" The Penguin jumped up angrily.

"I used to run this hen house before you showed up!" He folded his arms over his puffed out chest, and squawked angrily to himself.

Bickering erupted, but my eyes remained focused on Sweet Tooth, whose head was tilted slightly down as he surveyed the room. A devious smile played across his lips, his hands folded elegantly over his cane. He was completely motionless as all around him punches were thrown as rogues turned on each other. I couldn't tear my eyes from him, he seemed so calm.

I felt anything but.

He hadn't told me his plan.

I obviously wasn't trusted.


End file.
